Those first few months, and even year, I handled it all pretty well. I didn't let it bother me too much that I'd failed to get pregnant. After the year mark, I started to have some questions about what was going on. Why was it not happening? I'd immediately dismiss these questions and not dwell on it. It just hadn't happened. That's all. Just don't question it. We'd try again next month...
As time went on, I started to have more questions. Were my necessary, daily allergy pills interfering? Were birth control pills somehow still in my system? Had I done damage to myself from taking them for so many years? Even my Mom was concerned that all those years of dancing and running cross country had internally scarred me somehow. Or was there something bigger that was wrong with me? Was I missing some vital organ or hormone? Or the worst thoughts - Would I not make a good mother? Is there some reason God wouldn't give me a child? Would I mistreat my child or not love a child the way he/she should be? Was I being punished for something I'd done? Was I, deep down, a bad person?
Questioning is normal. While I know that all those questions probably didn't do my psyche any good, it was to be expected. I was trying to understand why I was having so much trouble. We have to question in order to understand. I've certainly learned that it's OK to question things. I continued over the next several years to wander into this sad questioning and then immediately change the subject in my mind. I don't know if I was just optimistic and thought it'd just happen the next month or if I was really afraid of the answer to the question. Probably the latter is the truth. I didn't really want to think about the negative. I'm not sure I could have handled hearing that there was something wrong with me. My brain couldn't even handle the thought that I might not have children. I had based my entire life upon what I thought was a sure thing - a given. I wasn't ready to handle the ramifications if that were not true.
One day though, this questioning just wasn't so scary to me. This questioning led to my decision that it was better for me to go find out the answers than torment myself month after month. I think I was tired of the agonizing and playing the "what if" game with myself. Instead of endless questions, I decided it was time for answers.